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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344965">Be Gay, Do Crime</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrightestNight/pseuds/TheBrightestNight'>TheBrightestNight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(i'm still figuring out ao3 tags bear with me), Crack, Don’t copy to another site, Friendship, Gen, Kinda, Other, most of the characters are honorable mentions lmao, this is a Jon/Daisy friendship fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:16:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,770</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrightestNight/pseuds/TheBrightestNight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Alt. click-bait title:</b> The Anarchist Archives | The titles say it all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. lockpicking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay but for real, these are just some short drabbles based on crack headcanons me and <a href="https://justletmeremember.tumblr.com/">justletmeremember</a> came up with <strike>to soothe our souls after all the emotional turmoil Jonny Sims has put us through</strike>. They also came up with the alternative click-bait title.</p><p>  <b>This story does contain spoilers for S3 and S4.</b></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Missing Martin Hours.</p><p>Daisy could see Jon listening to a tape in his office. She could tell by the look on his face that it was one of Martin's; the ones he'd been recording as he worked for Peter. Well, rather, the ones that had been recorded for him was probably a more accurate statement.</p><p>Jon's brow was furrowed with concern, eyes downcast with shame (probably from not being here when Martin had turned to Peter for help), and lips pursed in a thin line, the edges pulled down in a small frown. He always got that look when he listened to Martin's tapes.</p><p>Daisy sat down at one of the desks, leaning back in the chair, keeping the office in her line of sight. Jon was so engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't seem to notice she was staring. She watched until the tape was finished and Jon went to rewind it. Daisy stood and went to his office door. A moment before he could hit 'Play' again, she burst through the door, not bothering to knock.</p><p>The door slammed against the wall as Jon jumped, looking up at Daisy with wide eyes. When he realized it was her, his face became <em>very</em> unamused.</p><p>"You could have just knocked," he deadpanned.</p><p>Daisy ignored him and crossed her arms. "Heard you broke in Gertrude's flat by throwing a brick through the window."</p><p>Jon's face turned red and he stood up. "Who told you that?!" he asked, his tone indignant.</p><p>Daisy shrugged. "Not important. But we're gonna teach you how to pick locks so you can do crime better with less chance of getting caught next time."</p><p>"Wh-who said there was going to be a next time?" Jon demanded.</p><p>Daisy shrugged again. "At least it'll get you out of your office for a little while." She nodded to the tape recorder on Jon's desk. "And take your mind off of everything." She turned to exit and threw over her shoulder, "Mr. Mopey."</p><p>Jon's face turned even redder and he tried to splutter a response but Daisy was already out of earshot. Not giving him much of another option—he was sure if he sat back down in defiance, Daisy would just come back in, pick him up, and physically drag him out of the room—Jon gave the tape recorder one fleeting glance before following Daisy with a sigh.</p><hr/><p>Daisy reclined in Jon's chair, her feet up on his desk. She was currently trying to balance a pen on her nose. Had she known this was going to take so long, she would've grabbed something that could've entertained her more while she waited.</p><p>After a few seconds of failing to get the pen to do what she wanted, she threw it back onto Jon's desk and glanced at the currently closed and locked door.</p><p>"Come on, Jon!" she called. "You take longer than my grandad."</p><p>Daisy heard him sigh from the other side of the door. She could just see him throw his hands down in annoyance. "This is my first try, Daisy."</p><p>"The lock isn't that complicated," Daisy said. "This should be easy for you."</p><p>"Maybe if I had a better teacher," Jon muttered, continuing to pick away.</p><p>Unfortunately for him, these doors were paper thin. "I'm an excellent teacher. Maybe if you were a better student."</p><p>Jon was at least thankful Daisy couldn't see the blush that colored his cheeks at that.</p><p><em>Finally</em>, he heard the lock click. Letting out a triumphant sigh, he turned the doorknob and stood, pushing open the door.</p><p>"Happy now?" Jon asked.</p><p>Daisy sat up and laughed. "Not until you shorten your time. That was abysmal."</p><p>Jon merely glared at her. But coming from him, it was more like getting glared at by a disgruntled cat.</p><hr/><p>As Jon approached the men's he was surprised to meet resistance when he pushed on the door. Confused, he pushed at it again but it remined firmly in place. Locked? That didn't make sense. It wasn't a single—there were two stalls inside along with two urinals. And there weren't a lot of people at the Institute that would venture all the way down to the basement when there were other (nicer) restrooms on the upper levels.</p><p>"Wait." Jon muttered to himself before sighing heavily. He slammed his hand against the door. "Daisy!"</p><p>Daisy's laugh floated through the door and toward Jon.</p><p>"Daisy, I don't have <em>time</em> for this," Jon groused. "I've drunk quite a lot of tea today and—"</p><p>"I know," Daisy interrupted. "I planned it that way. I thought you could use a little more motivation."</p><p>Jon paused a long moment upon the realization that Daisy had been filling his tea cup a lot more than usual today. Before he could get properly angry, however, he remembered why he was standing in front of the men's in the first place.</p><p>"Well, h-how am I supposed to concentrate?" he asked.</p><p>"You think you'll have all your faculties about you when you do it for real?"</p><p>Jon sighed. "I-I don't have my tools with me."</p><p>"Then you better go get them," Daisy replied immediately.</p><p>Letting out a small growl, Jon swiftly made his way back to his office to grab his lockpicking tools. Still grumbling, he began to work at the lock. It didn't seem fair that his patron only gave him insignificant information, and not even pertinent insignificant information. Surely it knew the right combination to unlock this door. But <em>no</em>, whenever he <em>needed</em> information, significant or not, all he got was radio silence.</p><p>To Jon's relief, and annoyance, Daisy was right. This provided him with quite a bit of motivation. And Jon's skills were getting better. They better have been, too. He had practiced on some padlocks Daisy had provided for him (with promises to find more he could practice on). She'd still been disappointed with his time, though, which is probably why she'd devised this little test.</p><p>Anyway, he was able to unlock the door in what felt like record time. Though, at that point, his bladder was bursting. There wasn't much else he cared about.</p><p>Daisy was leaning against the wall next to the door and grinned as Jon pushed it open.</p><p>"Alright, get out," Jon said, shoving her bodily toward the door. Daisy resisted, only enough to make him work for it. (If she had <em>really</em> wanted to, she could've just stood there like a statue but she figured she'd tormented him enough right now.)</p><p>"That was brilliant, Jon," Daisy said as he continued to shove her out of the men's. "A record time."</p><p>"Are you being sarcastic?" he asked, still shoving and only managing to get her half-way out despite the effort he was putting in it.</p><p>"No, I mean it," Daisy said. "I'm hurt you'd even think—"</p><p>"I don't have time, Daisy!" Jon snapped, giving her one last push. With a chuckle, she relented and let him push her out into the hall. He then proceeded to slam the door, which only made her laugh more.</p><hr/><p>Jon didn't get the best night's sleep these days. Early bird this, night owl that. What was that meme Daisy had sent him? Ah, yes, he was a perpetually sleep-deprived pigeon now. So all Jon could do was sigh and rest his forehead against the door to his office when he went to open it and it was—surprise, surprise—locked.</p><p>"Daisy," he groaned. "Just let me in, please."</p><p>"I'm over here, Jon," Daisy said from behind and to his left.</p><p>Jon straightened up and turned to see Daisy reclining in one of the desk chairs, her feet up on the table. He narrowed his eyes at her, glanced back at the door, then turned back to her and opened his mouth to ask a question.</p><p>Daisy beat him to it, holding up a key. "Found a key to your office." She grinned.</p><p>Jon made his way over to her at a speed she'd never seen him move before. "Have you been snooping through my things?" he asked as he approached her, reaching for his key. She, however, was taller than him, and bigger (though that wasn't saying much because most people were), so it was quite easy for her to simply stand and hold the key up above her head. She placed her free hand on the top of Jon's head as he tried, in vain, to reach up and grab the key.</p><p>"You need the practice, Jon," she said, still smiling. "Besides, you've done your office door before."</p><p>"Then there's really no need for me to do it again, is there?" Jon complained, still flailing his arms.</p><p>"Just this once, Jon," Daisy said. "I promise."</p><p>Jon dropped his arms and pointedly removed Daisy's hand from the top of his head, glaring up at her. His glasses were askew and his hair ruffled now, so it didn't have its intended effect. Not that his glares ever had their intended effect on Daisy. (Or most anyone.)</p><p>"Then you'll give me back my key?" Jon finally asked.</p><p>Daisy nodded.</p><p>With a huff, Jon spun around and went to lockpick the door to his office. Again.</p><hr/><p>"I can't believe I agreed to this," Jon muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.</p><p>Daisy shrugged as much as she could. "Lockpicking isn't just about doors, Jon."</p><p>They were currently sitting in the shared office space of the archives, next to one of the desks, hands cuffed behind their backs, trying to pick the locks of the cuffs.</p><p>"What if they use rope o-or zip-ties?" Jon asked, remembering his time with Nikola Orsinov.</p><p>Daisy shrugged again. "We can work on that once you've gotten better at this. Now, shush, I'm trying to concentrate."</p><p>Jon blinked and frowned. "And that's <em>not</em> distracting?" he asked, nodding to Daisy's phone, which had been ringing for at least 20 seconds now, playing an obnoxious meme song Daisy had introduced Jon to against his will. (At least it gave him another thing he could hate without fearing for his life.)</p><p>Daisy stopped working at her locks and met Jon's gaze, "Well, get free of your handcuffs and turn it off."</p><p>Jon's frown deepened but he remained quiet as they both worked at their cuffs.</p><p>Daisy grinned at Jon as he pulled her hands free and held up her open cuffs. Jon didn't have to be discontented for long because he felt his own cuffs give. He gave her a triumphant smile and showed her his cuffs as she reached for her phone and <em>finally</em> turned off the music.</p><p>"See, you're getting better," Daisy said. Jon rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile pulling at the edges of his lips.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><i>Bonus:</i><br/><b>Martin *pacing*:</b> Did you see how much tea Daisy got for him?<br/><b>Peter *sighing and rubbing his temples*:</b> Martin…<br/><b>Martin *ignoring Peter*:</b> <i>I</i> should be getting Jon tea. Maybe not that much, but…<br/><b>Peter:</b> Martin, <i>please</i>—<br/><b>Martin:</b> I know, <i>I know</i>, the Lonely has claimed me. Social interactions are to be limited, if I interact with anyone at all. <i>I</i> came to you. <i>I</i> asked for your help. But listen, *Martin continues ranting*<br/>*Peter remembers why he became an avatar for the Lonely in the first place*<br/>---<br/>The last scene is similar to/inspired by a scene from the TV show <i>Elementary</i>.</p><p>reblog on tumblr <a href="https://awayofunderstandingit.tumblr.com/post/618952802924904449/chapter-1-lockpicking">here</a></p><p>Hope you enjoyed! Comments are much appreciated! ^_^</p><p>Thank you for reading,<br/>TheBrightestNight</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. molotov cocktails</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Are you sure this is…" Jon trailed off, looking around at the empty streets and buildings. "Safe?" He looked over at Daisy, who was driving.</p><p>"Safe enough." Daisy shrugged.</p><p>"That's not comforting."</p><p>"Look, we're here during the day. I've informed Basira <em>and</em> Melanie where we're going to be." Daisy paused. "Just…not exactly what we'll be doing."</p><p>"And what is it exactly that we'll be doing?" Jon asked, making sure not to use his compelling, Archivist powers.</p><p>"I told you, it's a surprise," Daisy replied. "I think you'll find it to be quite cathartic, though."</p><p>"Don't you think this is an unnecessary risk?" Jon asked after a few seconds of silence.</p><p>"You have me with you."<br/>
"Yes, but I thought…well, I just thought that—" He broke off, unsure of how exactly to broach the subject without being too blunt.</p><p>"I'd want to avoid the call of the Hunt?" Daisy provided for him. "Yes, of course. But I've got it all planned to lessen that risk. I'm not stupid."</p><p>"I-I know that," Jon said quickly. "I'm just w—"</p><p>"Worried? I appreciate it, Jon. But you don't need to be," Daisy said as she pulled into an abandoned parking garage. She drove to the second story and parked.</p><p>"Okay, <em>now</em> will you tell me what we're doing?" Jon asked as they both exited the car. Daisy simply smiled at him before going to the boot and opening it up, pulling out a large, black duffle bag. There was the sound of glass clinking other glass as she threw the bag over her shoulder and closed the boot.</p><p>"Come on," she said nodding to a railing several yards from the car. Jon followed, accepting the fact she was keeping whatever this was about a secret for as long as possible.</p><p>Daisy set the bag down as Jon reached her, right at the railing that opened up and overlooked an empty, dead-end alleyway below. She unzipped the top to reveal several bottles of cheap booze and ripped up strips of ragged cloth.</p><p>"Got a lighter?" Daisy asked, pulling out her own from her jeans' pocket, before reaching into the bag for one of the bottles.</p><p>Jon patted his own pockets and pulled out the lighter with the web-design etched into it. "Always." Then it clicked and Jon reached down for one of the bottles and a rag. "Oh, Molotov cocktails. Easy."</p><p>Daisy nearly dropped the bottle she'd been holding and felt her body astral project to another plane of existence as she set the bottle back down and straightened up, watching, in a daze, as Jon opened the bottle he was holding, dipped the rag in the booze before shoving one end of it into the mouth of the bottle. By the time her shock wore off, Jon was already lighting up the rag and throwing the bottle over the side and into the alley. It smashed against where the wall and ground met and ignited in a bright blaze.</p><p>"You're right, Daisy, this is quite cathartic," Jon said, grinning, and going for another bottle. It wasn't until he'd readied his next Molotov cocktail—all but lit it—did he notice Daisy's stricken expression. His voice tightened, "Is something wrong?"</p><p>Daisy blinked. "You know how to make Molotov cocktails?" she asked.</p><p>Jon relaxed and laughed, lighting the rag. "Of course," he said as he chucked his next cocktail. "When I was younger, whenever I had a problem, I just threw a Molotov cocktail, and then I had a different problem."</p><p>Daisy felt herself astral project again as Jon put together yet another Molotov cocktail with ease. He'd gotten through two more by the time her brain had comprehended this new information about someone she thought was previously stuffy and boring. He didn't even know what memes were until she'd started forcefully showing them to him! (Despite what he'd claimed when speaking with Melanie.)</p><p>"Are you going to join me?" Jon finally asked, holding his fifth, but not lighting it.</p><p>Daisy chuckled and shook her head, reaching down to grab a bottle and rag. "Of all the things you already know, it had to be this, didn't it?" They both lit their respective rags before chucking them into the alley.</p><p>Jon watched the flames for a moment, this time as he said, "This may come as a surprise to you, Daisy, but I was a bit of a punk in uni."</p><p>Daisy snorted as she put together her next Molotov cocktail. "Yeah, a bit of a punk who doesn't know how to pick a fucking a lock."</p><p>"Who <em>previously</em> didn't know how to pick a lock," Jon corrected before reaching for another bottle and rag. Daisy rolled her eyes and shook her head but exchanged a smile with Jon before they chucked their cocktails into the alley.</p>
<hr/><p>"Is there anything else Punk Jon learned how to do in uni?" Daisy asked as they watched the last two bottles burn out.</p><p>"At least one," Jon said, shifting to reveal Daisy's phone in his hand. Daisy instantly went to feel her back pocket: empty.</p><p>"Oh, you little prick!" she exclaimed, reaching for her phone. Jon simply laughed, letting her take her phone back, but his laugh was cut off when Daisy ruffled his hair. Jon swatted at her and pulled away as Daisy said, "So you know how to make Molotov cocktails and you can pickpocket but you didn't know how to pick a lock?"</p><p>Jon huffed glaring at her for a moment before righting his glasses and answering, "Never needed it in uni."</p><p>Daisy barked a laugh before she picked up her black duffel bag as she said, "I find that hard to believe." She nodded to the car. "Come on, we should head back."</p><p>Halfway to the car Daisy looked over at Jon and said, "Should I start calling you the Anarchivist now?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Daisy snickered.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><i>Bonus:</i><br/><b>Jon:</b> Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the Anarchivi—<br/><b>Jon:</b> *heavy sigh*<br/>*long pause*<br/><b>Jon:</b> *clears throat* Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist.<br/>---<br/>The Molotov cocktail quote ("I just threw a Molotov cocktail") comes from the TV show, <i>The Good Place</i>. If you've seen it, I just want to make it clear that I don't think Jon is as dumb as Jason, or dumb at all. A dumbass, yes. Dumb, no. But I do think the quote still fits. Especially a young, punk!Jon in uni.</p><p>Shorter than the last but for this I'm just going with the flow. So chapter length may vary. Posting schedule will also be sporadic.</p><p>reblog on tumblr <a href="https://awayofunderstandingit.tumblr.com/post/619055163622277120/chapter-2-molotov-cocktails">here</a></p><p>As always, I hope you enjoyed! Comments are much appreciated ^_^</p><p>Thank you for reading,<br/>TheBrightestNight</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. pickpocketing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had become a game of sorts.</p><p>Actually, a more accurate noun would be "competition." It had become a <em>competition</em>.</p><p>It started when Daisy had pickpocketed Jon's phone the morning after they'd had all that fun with Molotov cocktails. She'd brushed past him as he was coming in and Jon didn't think anything of it until Daisy entered his office a little later.</p><p>"Hey, think you could phone me?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe. "I seem to have misplaced my mobile."</p><p>"Sure." Jon reached for his phone but when he found his pockets empty, confusion crossed his face. Trying not to immediately panic, he looked into his messenger bag. Sometimes, if he was in a rush in the morning, he'd throw it in there. But when that turned up empty, he started to feel that small sense of panic rise in his chest.</p><p>As he was going over his morning routine in his head and right before he was about to rush home to go look for his mobile, Daisy held up his phone.</p><p>"Oh, hold on," she said in mock surprise. "Looks like <em>you're</em> the one who misplaced your phone."</p><p>Jon glared at Daisy as he stood up and stomped over to her, snatching his mobile from her hand as she laughed.</p><p>"Not funny, Daisy," he grumbled.</p><p>"Just a little payback for yesterday, Anarchivist," Daisy said before turning and leaving.</p><p>"Don't call me that!" Jon called after her.</p>
<hr/><p>Jon was just coming back from lunch when Daisy approached him.</p><p>"Jon, you wouldn't happen to have seen my phone lately, would you?" she asked, her eyes already narrowed in suspicion.</p><p>"Well, I don't know," Jon said, looking at her innocently. "Let me try calling you." He pulled out his own phone and dialed Daisy's number. A few seconds later, Daisy heard her ringtone coming from Jon's office.</p><p>She gave him a look before turning and going up to his door, only to find it locked. She turned back to Jon as he hung up and put his phone back into his pocket.</p><p>"Hm, that's strange," he said, his tone slightly mocking. "I wonder how it ended up in my office."</p><p>Daisy rolled her eyes. "So you're good at pickpocketing," she said. "You want a medal? Will you just come open the door, please?"</p><p>Jon patted at his pockets before making a face. "Oh, dear, looks like I've misplaced my office key."</p><p>Daisy stared at Jon, unamused. Jon simply smiled and shrugged.</p><p>"Are you going to do it?" Daisy asked.</p><p>"I feel like since it's your phone, you should do it," Jon replied.</p><p>"But it's your office."</p><p>Jon set his bag down in one of the chairs near him. "I can record statements out here."</p><p>Daisy rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I don't remember you being this stubborn," she muttered as he pulled out her lockpicking tools. "And, just so you know, this isn't going to make me <em>stop</em> calling you the Anarchivist," she told him as she began picking at the lock on Jon's office door.</p><p>"Of course not," Jon muttered, taking a seat with a sigh.</p>
<hr/><p>When Jon's mobile began ringing, he was so caught up in what he was reading, he didn't notice that the ringtone was strangely far away. On autopilot, he reached for his phone, which should have been in his pocket.</p><p>Except it wasn't.</p><p>That's when Jon finally realized that the ringing wasn't even coming from inside his office. Setting the paperwork down, he stood and slowly made his way to his office door, cracking it open. Sure enough, the ringtone got slightly louder. Confused, Jon slipped outside his office and tried to follow the sound of the ringtone. It was somewhere in the stacks, that much he could tell.</p><p>Straining his ears, and slowly walking through the stacks, he tried to determine when he got closer or farther away from it.</p><p>Until…<em>finally</em>, it was loud enough he could tell it was in the aisle to his left. As he slowly walked down the aisle of old statements—among other things—he listened for when the ringtone was loudest. He stopped, half-way in the aisle and looked up to his right. It was definitely there, but where…?</p><p>There! Sitting between two boxes, his phone rested, leaning up against one of the box's sides. And, of course, it had been placed on the top shelf, completely out of reach. Sighing, Jon went to look for a step stool. They kept a few around the archives that were circular, with wheels, but when you stepped on them they sunk into the floor to keep the wheels from rolling.</p><p>He found one several aisles down.</p><p>Unfortunately for Jon, he wasn't very tall. Even on the stool, his fingertips just barely skimmed the bottom of the shelf he was currently trying to reach. Jon lowered his arms and sighed heavily.</p><p>"Oh, dammit," he muttered, looking at the shelves and wondering if it'd hold his weight. They probably would.</p><p>"Need help?" Daisy asked, appearing at the end of the aisle.</p><p>Jon glared at her, suddenly realizing how his phone had ended up where it currently was. "No."</p><p>Daisy walked closer, looking up at him skeptically. "Sure." She didn't leave.</p><p>"So you're just going to stand there and watch, then?" Jon asked, annoyed.</p><p>Daisy grinned. "Yeah."</p><p>Jon grumbled under his breath as he turned back to the shelves, grabbing the shelf below the top one and carefully placing his foot on the second shelf from the floor. Testing his weight, he slowly pushed himself up, long enough to grab his phone. Unfortunately, he wasn't very coordinated, and as he was setting his foot back down on the stool, it slipped right off the side because he had miscalculated where the stool was and Jon went tumbling to the ground with a yelp.</p><p>Thankfully, Daisy was there to catch him. She held him bridal style as her body shook with laughter.</p><p>Jon hunched his shoulders, his face turning red as he took a moment to turn off the alarm on his phone, before crossing his arms and grumbling, "You can put me down now."</p><p>"Oh, come on, don't pout," Daisy said, setting him back on his feet.</p><p>"I have to get back to work," Jon muttered, brushing past her, causing her to laugh more. He sped up his pace but Daisy was taller than him and caught up quickly. They walked back to the office space in silence.</p><p>Half-way there, Jon turned to Daisy and asked, "Do I weigh anything to you?"</p><p>"No, it was more like holding a box of paperclips."</p>
<hr/><p>"Okay, this is getting out of hand," Jon said.</p><p>Daisy smiled from across Jon's desk. "Is it?" She was currently sitting across from him in his office.</p><p>"You put my phone—" Jon broke off as Daisy snickered at his annoyance. "Never mind. Why don't we settle this with a wager?"</p><p>Daisy's eyebrows shot up before she smirked and leaned toward Jon, resting an elbow on Jon's desk. "Oh, a bet?"</p><p>"…sure. A bet."</p><p>"How much?"</p><p>"A hundred quid."</p><p>"You sure you're ready to lose a hundred quid?"</p><p>Jon's eyes flashed with determination at the challenge and he leaned forward. "Are you?"</p><p>Daisy sat back, grinning. "Oh, I like Punk Jon." She paused. "So what's the challenge?"</p><p>They spent the whole next day trying to see how many coins they could get into Basira's pockets before she noticed what they were doing. Daisy got her right-side pockets and Jon, her left-side pockets. There were a lot of staged "accidental" bump-ins and brush passes with Basira that day.</p><p>Jon and Daisy didn't think Basira ever really figured it out, but it was amusing to watch a confused look cross her face when she pulled out coins from her pockets that she was sure hadn't been there before. They still counted toward the tally, of course.</p><p>At the end of the day, much to Daisy's annoyance, Jon had one more coin than she did. But it wasn't over quite yet.</p>
<hr/><p>"Daisy, you're going to get me <em>killed</em>."</p><p>Daisy shrugged. "You said I could pick the second challenge, since you picked the first. This is it."</p><p>Jon frowned at Daisy before glancing out through his cracked office door at Melanie, who was currently doing something on the computer. He turned back to Daisy, closing his door.</p><p>"She hates me, Daisy," Jon said. "I don't think I'd be able to go near her without an attempt on my life."</p><p>"Oh, I'll be around to protect you," Daisy said, trying to hide her amused smile but not succeeding.</p><p>"I feel like this is more a challenge for me, than it is for you," Jon finally said after sulking for a few moments in silence.</p><p>"I'd argue that getting the key on her is equal to getting it off her, don't you think?" Jon opened his mouth to respond but Daisy continued. "And if you want to ever want to lock your office door again, you're going to have to go get that key. Because I certainly won't be getting it back for you."</p><p>"But Melanie doesn't despise you."</p><p>"Not to sound unsympathetic, but that's not really my problem, Jon." Daisy paused. "Hey, you can hand over that hundred quid. That works for me—"</p><p>"I'll do it," Jon interrupted.</p><p>Daisy snickered. "Good. You have until the end of the day." With that she exited Jon's office, leaving Jon to plot. Well, skulk. And then plot.</p><p>He decided it'd need to seem like an accident, that that was the only way he'd make it out with his life intact. Melanie would most likely still be angry, of course, but if it was an accident (or "accident," rather), at least she wouldn't have much of a reason to kill him. It was still a reason. But it wasn't a <em>good</em> reason.</p><p>Jon waited just around the corner of the hallway that contained the restrooms. Melanie had gone in a moment ago and he was now waiting to hear the door open up again. His heart was pounding surprisingly fast for something so insignificant. But he'd be damned if he let Daisy win this bet. Especially since he's the one who'd proposed it in the first place.</p><p>He heard the door swish open and quickly turned the corner, keeping his head low, running right smack into Melanie.</p><p>"Watch it!" she snapped, shoving Jon back and glaring at him.</p><p>Jon held one of his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching—"</p><p>"Obviously not!" Melanie said, shoving her way past Jon, knocking their shoulders together for good measure.</p><p>Jon turned and started apologizing again, "I'm sorry, just a little preoccupied." He gestured to the men's door.</p><p>Melanie's eyes went from him to the door but her glare didn't lesson. "Just don't let it happen again. I don't care how badly you have to go; watch where you're going next time, for fuck's sake."</p><p>"Right." Jon said as she turned and walked off, her footfalls a little harsher on the ground than before.</p><p>When he was sure Melanie was out of earshot, Jon let out a long, slow breath. That didn't go quite as bad as he'd expected. And…</p><p>Jon made his way back to the common office space, where Daisy was reclining in one of the chairs, feet up on the desk, reading a book. She looked up as he approached and he brandished his office key, held between his forefinger and middle finger, smirking.</p><p>"Pay up, Daisy."</p><p>Daisy sat up, glaring and pouting at him as she set her book out and then pulled out a 100 pound note, grudgingly handing it over to Jon.</p><p>"This isn't over," she muttered before tacking on, "Anarchivist."</p><p>Jon took the note and sighed, shaking his head. "Stop calling me that." But Daisy could tell he wasn't being serious. Perhaps just feeling a little…exasperated. Much to her amusement (which did lessened the sting of defeat a little).</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><i>Bonus:</i><br/>*Melanie and Basira making tea in the little kitchenette in the archives*<br/><b>Melanie *pouring milk into her tea*:</b> Is it just me or have Jon and Daisy been bumping into you a lot lately?<br/><b>Basira *pausing in the stirring of her tea, having figured out exactly what Jon and Daisy had been up to*:</b> …it's just you.<br/>–<br/>More loveable hijinks.</p><p>Started a new series, Spice Up Your Life. It's got two one-shots so far. You should totally check it out if you wanna read more crack and archival bonding/hilarious hijinks.</p><p>reblog on tumblr <a href="https://awayofunderstandingit.tumblr.com/post/619398117143543808/chapter-3-pickpocketing">here</a></p><p>As always, I hope you enjoyed! Comments are much appreciated! ^_^</p><p>Thank you for reading,<br/>TheBrightestNight</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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